shiny wrappers

I saw the gleam of green between his finger... and I whispered that it was okay to eat the candy in church.  He looked up and returned the whisper I already did.  We shared a smile and while he continued to toy with the empty wrapper, I took a little trip back in time...

Before Africa and summer road trips, there was Washington D.C. For two weeks during the summer we would visit Gran & Grandad and in between all of the other fun, we would squeeze in walks around the monuments and trips to the museums. And every year, we would find one new place to discover. The trip to the National Postal Museum was one of our last trips before Eric's parents moved to Florida...

I remember walking into the museum and admiring the grand details and the craftsmanship of the ceiling.  I remember looking down the long hall, and feeling like we had tumbled back in time, just a little.  I remember noticing there was a security check-point and preparing to get there... gathering up everyone's bags & backpacks.  I will never forget the look on Cam's face.  Eyes were wide and his chin quivered, just a little.  I could tell there was something wrong.  Kneeling down in front of him, looking into those red-rimmed eyes, I saw the beginnings of a tear.  Quietly he pulled his hand from his pocket and said I forgot to ask if I could have these.  Now the tears were no longer in hiding, and either were the three shiny, gold-wrapped candies.  My arms wrapped up his whole body and I hugged him to me.  I knew the candies had come from Gran's candy dish... and I knew that she never required them to ask.  That candy was free for the taking.  But this small soul, sobbing in my arms, had panicked at the thought of going through the security check point with contraband Werthers in his pocket. 

We took the tears in stride, and used it a a teacheable moment.  But we also laughed about it right there in the grand hallway lined with marble columns and antique mail boxes.  Seven years later and my heart still skips a beat over it.  But I smile, and giggle to myself, and continue to watch his hands fold, unfold, and re-fold that little bit of shiny paper.  There is a part of me that wishes I could still wrap up his whole self in my arms... but instead I thank God for the memory... a precious bit of His grace.